LOTR-The monkeys run amuck
by Snoopy2
Summary: Ever wonder what would happen if Legolas was actually a monkey? So have i, but thats not what this fics about ^_~. Plz r/r, thanx. ^_^ ::Chapter 3 up::
1. Kotahi

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I also take no responsibility for any madness brought on by this fic. ^_~  
  
A/N: This is a fic. It has words. Some passages of first chapter taken from a previous (icky) fic. Enjoy!  
  
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He drew a deep breath. 'Well, I'm back,' he said.  
  
'Yes darling, and so is an old friend. Two, actually. They bid me to tell you that if you don't look toward the fireplace right this second they'll tickle you to death.'  
  
Samwise Gamgee turned toward the glowing embers, and grinned at the sight he saw there. Rose lifted the child from his lap and swiftly left, her cheeks holding a faint tinge of scarlet. Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli, son of Gloin sat before the hearth. Wide grins enveloped the companions' faces. Sam gazed from one to the other, his own face stretched in mirth. 'Hullo. Frodo's left.'  
  
'We know.' The already outlandish smirks on the three mens faces spread even further. 'Aragorn bade me tell you that he would be a little late, as he was busy being King, but he should be here tomorrow.' Legolas took a step towards the reclining hobbit. 'He said to start without him.'  
  
Sam pouted a little, but accepted the news. Frodo had known that the other members of the fellowship were close to one-another - he simply hadn't realised the full extent and nature of their relationships, or the true reason behind Sams sulleness in Mordor. Frodo slept very soundly at night. 'OK then. What do you want me to do?'  
  
Rose sat in the next room stroking Elanors golden hair. The child sat on her knee humming a wordless song whilst she grasped at her mothers skirt. The woman had been a little surprised when the visitors arrived half an hour before her husband returned. Even more surprising was the knowledge that they weren't hobbits at all, but a dwarf and an elf. An elf! Rose knew that before Sam had gone off on his silly little adventure with Frodo (what a waste of a year!), he had longed to meet one of the tall creatures. And now there's one named Legolas standing in the next room! They didn't even send a message to announce their arrival! I wonder if they are always so rude… Her musings continued as the memory of their arrival replayed in her mind. She had opened the door to find two strangers there. Both had been dressed in long, hooded cloaks, their faces hidden beneath the folds of fabric. They were taller than hobbits - The dwarf, Gimli, was stockier and a few inches closer to the sky. The elf was as tall as any man. In fact, that was what she had believed he was! I'm rather glad I was wrong…  
  
Bored, Rose turned her thoughts back to the adjoining room. Voices just HAPPENED to float through the door into her waiting ears.  
  
'…Now sit over there.'  
  
'Like this?' That was Sam.  
  
'Perfect. Now Gimli, if you sit here…' What were they doing? Curiosity overcame her modesty, and she crept to the door. '…And now you present yourself. Good. Now you say…' Rose nudged the door open ever-so-slightly. Gimli, Sam and Legolas sat around the table, concentrating intently on the objects laid out there. Eyes wide in surprise, Rose backed away…  
  
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Frodo stood at the bow of the ship, eyes cast tout into the inky blackness surrounding the great ship. Beside him stood Thranduil, King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood. Legolas' father. Actually, Ex-King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood would be more accurate. As with the other passengers on the voyage, he had left his previous life behind him, gifting his title to his only son along with his lands. The title was grudgingly accepted - it had taken much persuasion to keep Legolas from joining Thranduil on this voyage. Bilbo sat in the vast cabin along with Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond. As far as Frodo knew, they were discussing what it as like to bear Rings of Power. At least, that was what the talk had been before Frodo left - Bilbo was fading even faster now that the One Ring was gone, and it hurt to watch. The rocking of the boat comforted him in the night-time air, although the breeze sent shivers down his spine. The hobbits attention wandered to other things in an attempt to lighten his mood. The elf beside him looked much like his son - tall, long straight flaxen hair, blue eyes. The most noticeable feature he wore was a long, red scar down his right cheek; it started at his hairline, travelling over his eye and down to his mouth. The ruined eye was covered in a white glaze, dulled azure staring out into nothingness. Frodo longed to discover how he got it, but was loath to ask. Rudeness is a sign of weakness - it must be overcome… Lobelias words came flooding back from his childhood, boring a hole in his thoughts. She always was pushy…  
  
It was a long time before either Hobbit or Elf spoke, and when the words finally came the talk was vague and rather unmemorable. The only remarkable thing either discussed was Legolas' new place as King of Mirkwood. That subject then lead them to the mans outstanding skill with a bow, and in turn steered them towards the topic of battle. At some point Frodo learned that the scar had been gained fighting in the War of the Ring, so Frodo showed is companion his 'mutilated' hand. The missing finger had healed well, and the sub rarely bothered him. The exchange continued, enveloping them so completely that neither noticed the change in the ships course.  
  
They had sailed far into the oceans when the call came for the anchor to be lowered. Through the haze left by the departing rain Frodo could see fertile land rising from the water - they were almost there! But there was something familiar about those hills…  
  
The other passengers aboard the vessel joined the two figures on deck, disrupting his thoughts. It was then that Galadriel spoke. 'Are you ready, my friends, to enter your destiny in the West?'  
  
'Yes!' The cry rang from the lips of those gathered.  
  
'Excellent…'  
  
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Sam, Gimli and Legolas, finished their activities for the night, cast their eyes towards the west. Far away, on the edges of the elfs vision, fire arose. It was far out to sea. The man frowned and looked at his companions. 'Can you see that?'  
  
'What?' His companions squinted into the night.  
  
'The fire on the waters.'  
  
'You can see the sea?' Sam and Gimli looked at him expectantly.  
  
Legolas shrugged and turned his attention to the stars. 'Never mind.'  
  
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TBC  
  
A/N: ^_^ yay! Be glad I got the anger out of my system (for all those who didn't read the last version of this fic, ignore that ^ up there). Chapter two up as well. 


	2. E rua

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I also take no responsibility for any madness brought on by this fic. ^_~  
  
'Five ways to kill a man' is by Edwin Brock.  
  
A/N: Chapter two. A chapter.  
  
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'There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man:  
  
you can make him carry a plank of wood  
  
to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this  
  
properly you require a crowd of people  
  
wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak  
  
to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar, and one  
  
man to hammer the nails home.  
  
Or you can take a length of steel,  
  
Shaped and chased in a traditional way,  
  
And attempt to pierce the metal case he wears.  
  
But for this you need white horses,  
  
English trees, men with bows and arrows,  
  
At least two flags, a prince, and a  
  
Castle to hold your banquet in.  
  
Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind  
  
allows, blow gas at him. But then you need  
  
a mile of mud sliced through with ditches,  
  
not to mention black boots, bomb craters,  
  
more mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs  
  
and some round hats made of steel.  
  
In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly  
  
miles above your victim and dispose of him by  
  
pressing one small switch. All you then need  
  
require is an ocean to separate you, two  
  
systems of government, a nations scientists,  
  
several factories, a psychopath and  
  
land that no one needs for several years.  
  
These are, as I began, cumbersome ways  
  
to kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat  
  
is to see that he is living somewhere in the middle  
  
of the twentieth century and leave him there.'  
  
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Many years I have lived, many ages I have seen, and yet nothing can compare to the time of my youth. The world was once filled with magic and love and laughter (and the occasional evil maniac, I admit), but nothing I ever saw there can compare to the modern world. In the time of my people life was simple - it is after their fall, in the age of Men, that I become confused. The world changed so much; it grew as it hadn't grown in millennia. The Elves foundered, and the Men thrived. We knew that with the passing of Sauron and the end of the Third Age that our peoples' era was over, and the time of Men had begun. We just didn't realise what that meant.  
  
I remember sitting in Bag-End so many years ago, Gimli the Dwarf and Samwise the Hobbit at my side, thinking that it would be so bad - after all, I was King! King at 2, 931 - quite an achievement for one of my lineage. I should have known that it was too perfect to last. I should have realised it was already too late…  
  
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Sam, Gimli and Legolas, finished their activities for the night, cast their eyes towards the west. Far away, on the edges of the Elfs' vision, fire arose. It was far out to sea. The man frowned and looked at his companions. "Can you see that?"  
  
"What?" His companions squinted into the night.  
  
"The fire on the waters."  
  
"You can see the sea?" Sam and Gimli looked at him expectantly.  
  
Legolas shrugged and turned his attention to the stars. "Never mind."  
  
The Elfs' two companions glanced at one another - eyebrows raised. Both could tell that Legolas' heart had not truly been in their earlier endeavours. It worried them. "I was not aware that your eyesight was so sharp, Legolas. Even for an Elf that is a great distance to look apon." Sams' voice didn't echo the anxiety that currently plagued him - it was light and slightly uninterested.  
  
"Something troubles you, my friend" Gimli failed to mask the tension in his speech.  
  
"It is nothing, Gimli. Just needless worry, I assure you."  
  
"Hmnph" The Dwarf was NOT impressed. "It is unlike you to refrain from voicing your opinions over things that worry you, Legolas"  
  
"It is unlike you to pry" The Elf stood, towering over his shocked friends, and stalked into Bag-End.  
  
When Rose Gamgee returned to the living area after putting her various children into their beds she found it empty. The Hobbit-wife was still in shock over the scene she had witnessed earlier - SAM PLAYING CHESS. Only THINKING of the shame it would bring to the family when his secret was discovered sent shivers down her spine. Chess! No game was more despised in the Shire. And worse (in her opinion), from the looks of it Sam had been playing that, that GAME for a long time. Waste of a year, I says! But does he listen? Nooooooooo! Poor little Rose could NEVER understand the importance of the things Master Samwise Gamgee did! She's just a little hobbit-maiden. She doesn't know any ELVES! Grrrrr, cheap son-of-a-…  
  
Legolas, son of Thranduil, stormed into the hobbit-hole. His beautiful face masked in a frown, eyebrows pulled tightly together, golden hair unrecognisable as anything but a birds-nest, clothing sodden with mud. Catching his reflection in a mirror as he stooped through the tiny dwelling the Elf sighed deeply. That'll teach me to climb a tree while I'm angry, and then to fall out while I'm ranting about it! He winced and decided not to think any more about the undignified heap he had landed in. Legolas padded gently into the living area he had left his bag in. Standing in the middle of the room, holding Gimlis' prized marble chess-board high above her head was Rose. She dropped it with a loud crash. Tiny pieces of the once-perfect figurines littered the floor around her, the rest having been pounded into fine powder by the descending board. Legolas was too hocked to move. It was only when the crazed hobbit took a bough from the fireplace and moved towards their bags that he found his voice. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU CRAZY BITCH!!!!!!!!"  
  
Startled, the woman turned. "I will NOT tolerate chess in my house!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Get out!Getoutgetooutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout!" Flaming branch in hand, Rose pushed him firmly out the door. The maddened glint in her eyes looked terribly familiar…Arwen. Arwen had the same look in her gaze when he saw her. Hmmm, must be a girl thing… Legolas hurried to where he had left Sam and Gimli.  
  
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Frodo turned his stare to the stars as the flames licked at his body. Pain had long since enveloped his mind, weaving its way into cracks and hollows left by the Ring. Betrayal accompanied it. The blazing ship sunk slowly beneath the waves, taking with it all those on board with it. Frodos' last thoughts were of his friends, safe on land. I'm so glad you stayed, Legolas…  
  
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The age of Men is long since upon me. I should have known that it was too perfect to last. I should have realised it was already too late.  
  
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TBC  
  
A/N: There ya go. ^_~ Chapter 3 will be up sumtime. Plz r/r. Luv ya! 


	3. E toru

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I also take no responsibility for any madness brought on by this fic. ^_~ Again, 'Five ways to kill a man' is by Edwin Brock.  
  
A/N: The last chapter (unless every1 wants 2 kill me 4 it). The end. It's finished. It's also VERY short. I mean, most of my chapters are short, but this one takes shortness to new heights… ^_~  
  
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Fear. It envelopes you, binds you, holds you tight, until you can't escape it. Ever. Loss does the same, but the worst of all - the thing that truly destroys your soul - is LOVE. Love is the thing that destroys planets, obliterates nations, annihilates spirits. But love is what separates us from the evil of the world, from the Saurons and the Gollums. They do not possess love, they possess LUST, and lust is an entirely different matter. Lust is what drives us. The passing of Sauron was brought on by Gollums' lust, the passing of Saruman by his own. No matter what we do or where we go, it follows us. Frodo almost met the same fate when he stood in Mt Doom, unable to take another step. Sams love saved his master many times, but slowly and surely ate at his own soul. Sams love is what took him from us when Frodo left. He isn't Sam now, he's a shell - empty, lifeless, bound. I arrived too late to stop him, but I learned. I learned that the only way to combat love is to fill it with ice. If you get it early enough it can be killed. If you get it early enough.  
  
When I arrived in Hobbiton Gimli was trying (unsuccessfully), to retrieve his bags from a burning Bag-End - Legolas was pulling him back. For someone so - lithe - the elf is amazingly strong. Sam held Roses charred body while his children lay weeping about them. Arwen pulled a bough from the blackened body of the Hobbit-wife. All cried.  
  
Yeah yeah, I know - it's not a very emotional synopsis of the situation, but like I said, love stinks. None of it really matters anyway, because then the men came…  
  
They came over the hills, thousands of them. My people. My servants. They took the Shire and all that was in it - why do you think hobbits are suddenly so scarce? But it was right. The land is ours now. We will keep it safe from those damned 'Riders of Rohan'. Who do they think they are, anyway? Always going on about duty and honour. They fled before me. They just didn't UNDERSTAND! They needed to be cleansed, to be pure. I kept the hobbits Sam, Merry and Pippin alive, as well as the dwarf Gimli. They will show that God is right, is pure. They will show the filth of animals, they will show Mens righteousness. The God of Men will reward us in Heaven - the heathens are no longer among us. The race of men will live long and well - our faith will keep us safe. That is what the Man told me, and the Man is ALWAYS right. The sorcerers have been burned, the elves have been obliterated. Only Legolas remains. The coward fled over the seas, to the lands of the Grey. I care not. I am right, and none shall challenge me…  
  
Aragorn looked to the fires enveloping the place once known as Lothlorien. Bodies littlered the ground before him, bodies of those he had once held dear. Some rotted already, having been brought from deep in the Shire to this, their final resting place. Love is fire- The bodies sprang into flames, indistinguishable from one another. It can be beaten with ice- Rain poured from the heavens to extinguish the flames. Nothing was left of the carcasses but a pile of smouldering embers. Aragorns' smile was forever on his face as the darkness of death enveloped him. I will never be weak…  
  
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He turned to the sea. Far across it lay the land of his birth. It had been many, many years since he had learned of Mans true nature, many years since Aragorn had turned into the latest of the Evil Maniacs to plague Middle Earth.  
  
There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man:  
  
There's only one problem with this theory, of course - You have to BE a man for it to work…  
  
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The Beginning  
  
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A/N: Comments? Flames? Plz r/r, thanx ^_~ 


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